


Cosmo Brown’s Symphony nr 1 “Giocoso (GEE! Oh Cos oh)”

by id_ten_it



Category: Singin' in the Rain (1952)
Genre: Historical References, Multi, Musical Composition, Orchestra, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/id_ten_it/pseuds/id_ten_it
Summary: Cosmo has to step away from work for a few days, which means they all have to put a bit of effort into communicating. Luckily the time off means he finally finished his (first) symphony.Written in the symphonic form, and shamelessly based around that one time Kathy was thinking in English and Cos was thinking in music and they made a pun.
Relationships: Cosmo Brown/Don Lockwood/Kathy Selden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: New Year's Resolutions 2020





	Cosmo Brown’s Symphony nr 1 “Giocoso (GEE! Oh Cos oh)”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinky_kneazle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/gifts).



> The original prompt was  
> "Cosmo is my favourite character in this entire film. He's wonderful. I love these three as an OT3. I'm guessing they keep it secret, but maybe it's an open secret among the Hollywood elite? I'd love to read about how they become a threesome, whether that's Kathy finding out Don and Cosmo were together before she even met them or she and Don bringing Cosmo in (or Cosmo and Kathy deciding Don's being an idiot and convincing him to try as three). Would love kid!fic with these three or getting old fic or anything with them happy together." 
> 
> The plot bunny king focused on 'them happy together' and asked what happened after they initially got together...and then asked me what if Cosmo couldn't dance? (Don't worry, he can totally dance by the end)

**First Movement: Allegro ma non troppo.**

_Usually written in Sonata Form, a simple form of musical writing that, when understood, will make everything that follows easier. Sonata Form is based on the negotiation between two themes (often referred to as_ masculine _and_ feminine _) and the structure is: exposition, development, recapitulation._

“Oh Cos, what did you do?” Kathy raced over, the long train she was wearing fluttering behind her. If the man in question wasn’t in such pain, he’d have realised what a pretty picture she made, possibly even made a quip about how she didn’t need the huge fans Monumental usually employed to blow the train around to make an impression with it. “He was mucking around and hurt his ankle” the dour-faced grip intoned. Cosmo was deposited on a folding chair with a grunt of disapproval. If Kathy knew this was caused by some painful personal history between the musician and the grip, she gave no sign. Instead, she sent the grip away with a thankful smile and peck on the cheek before squatting in front of Cosmo. “When he says mucking about…”  
“I was teaching one of the new boys how to run up the wall and some fool let those puppies from the dog sledding story into the room. They took exception to a man already partially airborne.” To give Kathy her due, she didn’t even smile at such a comical image, instead bending to look properly at his right leg. “Cos, you have to let the nurse see this.”  
“Nonsense. It’s nothing a drink and a sleep won’t fix.”  
“You don’t have to push through. You should let someone look at it, this is looking bad.”

She knew it was bad when he heaved a theatrical sigh, nodded, but didn’t even try to get up. Waving a regal hand, he instructed her to fetch Don, and barely suppressed a grimace when she reminded him Don was trying a new type of filming and was out in the real world floating down a river. “Just the two of us” he sung, but still didn’t move.  
“I’ll get someone to bring the car around.” Resting a hand on his right shoulder caused another wince and she jumped up instead, trudging off with a hot stomach. By the time she got back Cosmo had managed to rearrange his savaged shirt to cover somewhat more of his skin, but it was apparent that he’d be out of action for several days.

When Don came home, whistling like a steamer and ravenous as a boy, his double-take was comical. “What’r’ya doing?”  
“Writing that symphony. What does it look like?” Cos snagged some of Don’s sandwich and picked out a chord on the piano with equal assurance.  
“Looks like you finally followed your own advice and broke a leg.”  
“Well done, Holmes.”  
Don tipped an imaginary pipe at him “elementary my dear Watson. I’ll fetch you your own food.” Securing the rest of his sandwich, Don reappeared with soup, toast, and a head rub. “Kathy left you?” he murmured, surprised, but also glad to feel Cos finally relax and start to eat. Kathy’s maternal instinct normally resulted in nigh-unbearable mothering rather than the patient left alone with musical instruments. “Kathy is doing dinner with RF.” He didn’t _sound_ upset.  
Don slapped his forehead like a clown, but his headshake was real “Too bad. I was hoping for a quiet night in with the two of you.”  
“I was supposed to be out too” Cos tried, ruining the effect entirely by putting the empty crockery on some empty manuscript and snuggling into Don’s chest.  
“I’m sorry you’re laid up…but it’s so good to have you here. It’s been too long.”

They sat like that until the gloaming started to creep into the room and Cos got restless. He remained awkward on the limp to the bedroom; Don was bigger but he hadn’t carried Cos for years and apparently wasn’t about to start then. “I’m not doing something for free that people will pay to see me do.”  
“They didn’t pay much” Cosmo grunted through his perspiration, but he’d have refused a lift if it was offered properly anyway.

**Second Movement: Adagio cantabile doloroso.**

_Most second movements are slow, lyrical, and solemn. Some composers will switch their second and third movements (i.e. Beethoven’s Ninth); there is no set form for the second movement._

The next day, Cosmo was grouchy and tender. “I’ll come by at lunch” Kathy promised, still apologetic for apparently waking him when she got into bed after quite a late dinner. “Thanks” his smile didn’t meet his eyes but she tried not to blame him. “Come on starlet” Don ruffled Cosmo’s hair, “don’t eat all that breakfast at once. Can’t have you losing that fine figure of yours by lying around just eating.” He was still chuckling as he kissed Cos goodbye, tugging Kathy out with him for their drive up to the studio. Cosmo gulped down coffee and toast, then regarded the eggs and bacon, his own abraded skin, his massively swollen ankle, and decided there might be some truth in Don’s words after all. Despite these injuries he managed to throw the rest of the food out to the birds and make it down to the music room. If he couldn’t do anything else he could at least work on that symphony.

“Miss Seldon! Miss Seldon!” Kathy recognised herself too much in the eager eyes of the gofer rushing to her with a message to be anything else than excessively polite. “Yes, Ben?”  
“Mr Lockwood asked me to let you know he’ll be working late tonight with fittings.”  
“Thanks Ben. Where is he now?” Kathy glanced at her watch, wondering how late ‘late’ might be.  
“Stage three Miss. Thank you” he added as Kathy patted his shoulder and smiled and glided away, leaving him a little star-struck.  
“Only a couple hours.” Don promised her, “how was Cos?”  
“Cos? I have no idea. Didn’t you go see him?”  
“I thought you were bringing him lunch.”  
“I thought you were. I asked Tom to tell you, since I had an extra rehearsal.”  
“You mean _neither_ of us brought him lunch?”  
They stared at each other with something like guilt on their faces, before Don was called upon again. “I’ll have someone take something round.” Kathy tried, but the words sounded uncertain to her own ears. Everyone was just so busy today, with an extra picture still delayed just adding to the confusion. She did try, but there was nothing really palatable on the menu in the commissary and she couldn’t convince anyone to take the hour it would require to drive out to a deli, pick up a meal, and then on to their home and back in between everything else that was going on. She was pleading with the no-nonsense woman nominally appointed her assistant that this would be of significant assistance to her – without explaining how exactly Cosmo had ended up in their home to start with – when she was swept off to work again. At least he’d had a big breakfast, and there was plenty of food in the house.

By the time they got back home that night, Cosmo was upstairs, under a sort of tent he’d built out of a step stool and blankets. His ankle was cradled by pillows, and his nose was scrunched in serious contemplation of his dream. A quick glance around the kitchen showed he’d managed to fend for himself, and Kathy’s guilt slipped a bit further away. She forgot it altogether when Don surprised her with a post dinner cuddle, which was more fun than the limitations of their sofa should have made it. Curled between her men when she eventually made it to bed, she easily followed Cos to dreamland.

The next few days were as hectic as the first one, but Cosmo never complained. Once or twice a musician would give Don or Kathy parcels of music, or mallets, or on one awful occasion a contrabassoon, and sometimes the detritus of such gifts littered their home enough to show that Cosmo did have visitors. One night Don came home to find Kathy furiously sweeping dog hair off her jacket and the couch. “What happened?” he asked, but Kathy had the same information they did, since Cosmo had again retired to bed. He seemed to spend a lot of time sleeping these days.

***

On the third day, Cosmo again was treated to breakfast in bed, returning their kisses between his nibbles of toast. Don’s warning about his middle-aged spread stuck the rest of the food in his throat. His skin was well on the way to being healed, at least. “See you later.”  
“Yeah. There’s food in the pantry. I’m doing lunch with the script writers today; Kathy’s got some bee in her bonnet about her new sidekick so I don’t think she’ll be back either. You two’ll have dinner though. I’ll catch up later.”  
“Do-on…”  
“Not like that!” Don was breathless from that kiss too, Cos noticed.  
“You’re impossible. I’m barely hobbling.”  
“I’ll catch ya tonight Cos. Both of you.”

  
Cosmo spent most of the day in the music room, Kathy could tell as soon as she stepped into the home. “Have you eaten?” Cosmo uncurled himself, hair glinting in the light from outside. “Cosmo? Have you eaten?” It had been years now since they’d first met but sometimes, seeing him sparkling in the hidden light of their dim lounge, warmth spread through her afresh and her breath caught in her throat, curling free into a smile.  
“Aren’t we eating together? Don said…”  
“I’m sorry. Tallulah and I ate already. No. I’ll get something. You waited after all.” She clicked off but Cos limped after her, angry and hungry in almost equal measure. “I don’t mind the grey skies” she sang over the counter to him, “you make them blue…?” a tilted head and hands turned out by her shoulders asked the question.  
“Just hungry.” He muttered, watching eagerly as she prepared a meal for one instead of two. Now wasn’t the time to go into more. “What did you have?”  
“Well we got talking about the stage. She has so much experience! Cos – “  
“Oh honey of course you could. You’d be far above us mere humble players.” Kathy kissed his cheek, chuckling at the allusion. “I do like the idea of being recorded.” She admitted. Her partner politely waited for this to pass until he tucked into his pasta. “We’ll get ‘em to make Shakespeare” he promised, indistinctly. “I hope so. But! We got so busy talking that we ended up having to stop and get dinner on the way home. It was that new place around the corner.” She apologised.  
“Hmm? Good?”  
“Good.” She confirmed, remembering it was Don who wanted to try it.  
“I’ll take Don when I can walk properly. You’ve got him used to being doted on now and I can’t do that with this limp.”  
“ _I_ spoil him?!”  
“You spoil me too.” He allowed, more generous now the hunger for food and company had been meet.  
“I think you’ll be walking around in no time.” She reassured him.  
“Oh yeah. I just don’t ever get a chance for a break. Besides, I’ve got more writing done these past three days than in the past three months.”  
“Cosmo Brown! You wrote for five pictures in that time!”  
“Yeah but it was mostly the same theme. When you’ve heard one, you’ve heard ‘em all.” She laughed at the old joke, coming over to cuddle in against his side in lieu of a proper dance.

**Third Movement: Minuet con tenerezza.**

_The third movement is usually a dance, either a minuet or a scherzo. This movement is in 3/4 time and usually consists of three sections, two dances bracketing a trio. Brown notes ‘I prefer scherzi, but you cannot have a tender scherzo, so this is a minuet’._

Five days after Cosmo had first been snagged out of the air by angry dogs, Don escaped out of the madness of the studio in time for lunch. He stood outside his own front door feeling more than a little anxious – in the past he and Cos may have gone this long without talking but they’d known their relationship inside and out. This was new, different, and he and Kathy had been spending an awful lot of time together alone without Cos. Their partner might be angry about that. Or scared. The result would be much the same. Especially, if Don was being totally honest, given that afternoon three days ago when he and Kathy had, well, had been alone together and things had just happened.

Still, he was Donald Lockwood, wasn’t he? And Donald Lockwood was no coward, even in his own home. So he pushed the door open and headed towards the music room, where he could hear the sounds of budding genius. It was fairly apparent, after a few moments, that Cos wasn’t about to be interrupted, and Don sloped back up to the kitchen. Kathy might have a maternal streak that still made her want to shelter wide-eyed goofballs (despite their particular goofball’s age and experience), but Don had been reminding Cos to eat since the terrifying winter of their thirteenth year when he’d climbed the drainpipe into Cosmo’s tiny bedroom after too many hours of waiting, and found his best friend half-gone with the fever that had killed his mother. Thus, the great star of the silver screen checked if his partner had eaten anything, then made up a tray of snacks, leaving them on top of the grand where they both could eat them. He poured himself a Gin Rickey and left Cosmo unadulterated soda, then settled nearby with his latest script. With half an ear he listened to the plaintive noises coming from their Steinway.

When they’d talked about The Symphony – which wasn’t often – Don’d got the impression that while the second movement would be lyrical it wouldn’t be tragic, but the bits he could put together were enough to make one weep. It got all tangled up with the script he was reading till he couldn’t make head nor tail of the jokes and could only lie there, ankles crossed, fingers damp with condensation, cheeks slick with tears, listening.  
“Don” roughened thumbs scrubbed his cheeks clean, “what’ve you been _reading_? Surely it’s not as bad as all that?” Catching his glass just before it fell, the larger man struggled upright. “Don’t hurt yourself. Here.” He tugged Cos against his chest, gently checking the bandages on his right arm, glad for something to do. “Don?”  
“Hush.” Cosmo could never be completely silent, of course, but he was at least fairly quiet while Don gathered himself. “What’s got into you?” he tried, when Don finally kissed his palm and curled their fingers together. “What’s got into me? You have, you ridiculous man. That’s…is that your symphony?”  
“I... I don’t really know any more.” Cosmo admitted, wrinkling his nose in faint disquiet.  
“Cos, it’s tragic!”  
“It’s not that bad. No worse than lying on my couch crying over a script.”  
“You know what I mean.”  
“I’ve been stuck inside for a week with nobody but me to talk to for hours at a time. I’m allowed to be slightly confused.” He downed Don’s drink and took the last grape on their tray with the same assurance that he ran up walls.  
“Has it really been a week?”  
“Mhm. A whole week.” Cosmo rolled his feet around in lazy circles, but his eyes were shrewd, calculating his limits. “But…but I’ve hardly seen you.” Don pouted, sort of apologising.  
“I’ve tried not to move about too much. But with one uninjured leg and two mostly functioning arms it’s hard not to get about a little.”  
“You know what I mean. Why, we haven’t even had lunch together!”  
“The taxi drivers hate slogging all the way out here, you know that, and that telephone thing is very complicated.”  
“No, I meant…” Don trailed off, running his hands down his sides fondly as he thought, then pausing and repeating the action more slowly. “Take your shirt off?”  
Cos _giggled_. “Why, Mr Lockwood. We hardly know each other! What if your wife comes home?”  
“I wouldn’t worry, she loves you. Besides, what if _your_ wife comes home?”  
“Then we might have a problem.” Cos conceded, begrudgingly stripping off his jumper and slowly undoing his shirt. “Not that I don’t enjoy a good striptease” he added, “but it seems like I’m being short changed here.”  
“This isn’t for me. Do shut up Cosmo.” Don dropped the musician down on the chair, kneeling before him, warm hands splayed against those ribs again. “Have you eaten at all this week?”  
“Sure!”  
“Not enough.” Cos pushed Don’s hair out of his eyes and smiled shyly at the fussing. “You’ll get sick again Cos, I’m serious. We need you healthy.” He spoke lightly, but when Kathy came home they were up in the lounge, Cosmo talking expansively with his feet propped up on a chair, one hand on Don’s thigh, and waving a half-eaten sandwich around to illustrate his point. Don was watching so hungrily Kathy thought at first he’d given up his afternoon tea, but then the part of her which had been surly all week awoke and she perched on the arm, watching Cosmo’s ridiculousness with the same hunger in her eyes. They’d been too serious without him, she realised, too focused away from what was important.

“I figured four dogs couldn’t hurt. They wanted to inspect the damage they’d caused anyway” Cos laughed, swallowing another hunk of bread.  
“They shed everywhere. I had to clean my coat at least twice, I kept finding fur!” Cos sparkled up at Kathy’s complaint. “You could get it dry-cleaned.” He suggested. They both regarded Don expectantly. He shook his head, “If I give in once, it’ll set a dangerous precedent.” He tried, kissing Cos’ forehead as soon as the latter had finished eating. “I suppose you think we’ll use that reasoning to get a dog.” The musician muttered, wrapping an arm around their wife and relaxing as soon as he was grounded between them. “So distrustful” Kathy agreed, with a sigh that breathed a memory of that haunting second movement Cos had been sketching out.

  
“I missed you this week” the man informed her, eyes carefully blank. They both knew this would be passed off as a joke if they let it. Kathy was determined not to let it. “I’m sorry Cosmo. I got carried away.” She shot Don a look on her way down to snuggle into Cosmo, and Don kissed Cos’ cheek. “Same. Besides, I didn’t talk to you.” He waits carefully, then finishes, “you weren’t around when we got back.”  
“You got back late! Besides, I was tired.”  
“Are you quite alright?” Kathy fretted, “you’ve been tired all week.”  
“Just my body taking a chance to be sick all at once.” Cosmo reassured her, tilting his head from Don’s shoulder to hers and back again in reassurance. “Lazing around let all those germs finally settle on me.”  
“Not eating probably helped.”  
“I wasn’t hungry Don. Oh…look. Can’t we just dance or something?”  
“Your ankle…”  
“Is fine. I tried it this morning. I won’t be doing anything too fancy –“  
“- you never have” interrupted Don  
“- but I can dance around my own home with my husband and wife.”  
“I’ll catch you, anyway.” Kathy teased, going and putting on a record of Monumental Pictures’ Hits. All straight from Cosmo’s baton of course. Don, who clearly thought this dangerous, just as clearly wanted to keep communicating so he helped their music master up with gentle hands, as if worried not doing the thing he asked now might be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Dancing doesn’t cure everything, of course, even if it’s the basis of your whole relationship. But it kept them all talking to each other after their short break, and kept their ray of sunshine beaming.

**Fourth Movement: Vivace sciolto.**

_The final movement of a Symphony allows the orchestra to show off their prowess. It may be written in a Rondo form (i.e. Mr Brown’s 2 nd Symphony’s “Rondo con variazione”) or a more relaxed, but joyful, celebration of the players’ capability and composer’s ability._

“I’m supposed to be the nervous one.” Cosmo grumbled, trying to get a peep in the mirror at himself while Dan uses the same mirror to tie his bow tie and Kathy did something complicated with a stole and her Grandmere’s brooch. “You’re never nervous.” Don reminds him, but doesn’t ruffle his hair like normal. Perhaps he’s enjoying Cos all dressed up, or perhaps he just wants to keep his fingers clean. “I can’t just write over this like doing a take at the studio.” The musician moans, elbowing Don out of the way and starting in on his own tie.  
“Why don’t we have three mirrors?” Kathy asks sweetly. It’s not because Don had threatened to overturn her perfume as he wriggled his elbows around, nor is it because Cosmo’s oxfords came perilously close to Don’s bare feet. Well. She doesn’t _say_ it’s because of that. “We do” Don mutters from his sock drawer. “But they’re all in different rooms.”  
“Normally I can just roll into a suit and right out the door.” Cosmo apologises.  
“That’s because you’re a very handsome man.” Kathy blows him a kiss in the mirror. “There.” Finally satisfied, she eventually manages to shoo the boys out to the car and Don gets them to the hall in plenty of time.

“Sure you’ve got everything?” He asks, and it’s much the same tone that he always asks it (‘everything’ being instruments, train tickets, costumes, their poker winnings, or Kathy’s evening bag) which grounds Cosmo some more. “Sure.” A quick kiss for Kathy, a hand squeeze to Don, and he’s gone.  
“Let’s get a drink” Kathy urges. It takes up the time between dropping Cosmo off and returning for the premier nicely, and she’s so nervous that she’s glad for Don’s ten minute monologue about how he didn’t ever think Cos would expose himself enough to write something so serious; Don always knew Cos felt things keenly but he thinks sharing those feelings with two others gave him confidence not only to write but to publish.

By the time they’re both more braced, it’s time to go. They sneak in more or less anonymously, and Don helps Kathy with her coat. Absurdly, he finds himself crossing his fingers like a boy when the orchestra file on. “He’s right, this isn’t like watching each other at work.” Kathy whispers, and cuddles against him. Don’s response is lost in the applause as Cosmo strides onto the stage. He looks a million bucks, self-assured and impeccably dressed. He nods to the audience, favours them with a winning smile, then steps up to the podium. The first half is fun, cheery, gay. It warms the orchestra and the audience up quite nicely. After the intermission though, the string players put up their bows, the percussionists their mallets, the audience holds its collective breath, and the brass fanfare starts off.

Don knows the piece, vaguely, because he lives with the composer. Still, there’s so much happening in so many sections he’s whirled around and around the place. This is what music should be! He thinks, amazed. This is a real symphony! It’s exactly what life is like.

Once the concert has ended, and they’ve clapped and shouted themselves raw, Don and Kathy join the stream of dazed concert-goers. They’re so dazed that when Don nearly knocks into someone, they don’t even ask him for an autograph, they just say, “no worries Mr Lockwood!” and continue.  
“Well!” Kathy beams, standing next to him out of the way. “What a night!”  
“Our Cosmo is a star” her husband agrees, smiling faintly at the large poster advertising the symphony.  
“Should we be worried that it’s been published under ‘Giocoso’?”  
“Well it _is_ very joyful.”  
“It must be the first symphony named by a pun.”  
“And what a pun.” Kathy blushed, remembering the activities that had led to that particular pun. Don chuckled, shooting his cuffs and taking her hand. Now the crush of people had gone, it was possible to see the orchestra coming out towards them. Cosmo, looking like he hadn’t decided if he was exhausted or elated, was deep in conversation with a cellist. He looked like Cos had hung the moon, but Don was fairly sure the hand on his husband’s shoulder was due to real concern over the composer’s ability to walk straight. “I’d say come for a drink, but your ride’s waiting.” The cellist smiled, handing Cos to Don with a fond smile. “You’re a star” Cos beamed back at his star soloist. “Have a drink for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Sure thing.” Pausing in picking up his instrument again he cocked his head, “tell you what, I’ll save that drink till tomorrow. Come out with us then.” Cosmo positively beamed back, shouldering his music satchel securely. “Sure thing. Don’t stay up too late.”

Kathy took Don’s other hand and the three followed what soon became a string quartet and then gained a couple of percussionists still buzzing about the chance to play instruments they normally only dreamed of using in a proper concert hall.  
“You were amazing Cosmo.” Kathy breathed as they held hands in the back of Don’s car.  
“Wonderful.” Don agreed, taking in the emotion on Cos’ face and leaving it at that.

“They really liked it” the composer half-asked, settled between Don and Kathy and cradling a drink.  
“They really did” Kathy agreed, kissing his left cheek.  
“We really did” Don agreed, kissing his right cheek.  
“ _I_ did.” Kathy whispered, and claimed his mouth. They kissed for a while, and when Cosmo came back up for air he looked more like the scruffy teen Don had fallen in love with.  
“If I’d known you’d like it that much I’d have finished it earlier!” Cosmo grinned. “Come on.” He added, finishing his drink with a flourish, and standing to lead them upstairs.


End file.
